


Caught

by glamglaceon



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Episode Prompto Spoilers, Poor Prompto, Transformation, added violence warning just in case, trigger warning for torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-18
Updated: 2018-08-18
Packaged: 2019-06-29 09:40:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15726828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glamglaceon/pseuds/glamglaceon
Summary: Prompto is caught trying to flee back to Noctis and the gang from Niflheim.





	Caught

**Author's Note:**

> I did add in the graphic description of violence in juuuuust in case. As well as adding the tag of trigger warning of torture. Some people are more sensitive than others.
> 
> Anyway, welcome to my first FFXV fanfic on AO3. I actually RP as Prompto on Tumblr, for going on little over a year now, and I love writing Prompto, even if I don't have the follower counts that most do. He's just a lovable ball of sunshine and I feel absolutely horrible about doing this to him.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy XV or anything related. Square Enix and the other creators/owners do.

_“No... you're wrong, dammit!”_

_“I'm a Lucian!”_

_“I am not... one of your EXPERIMENTS!”_

Echoes of his various shouts rang through Prompto's ears, even as he found himself floating in the peaceful darkness. In here, he could pretend that he was not stuck in Zegnautus Keep, strung up like a behemoth being led to the slaughterhouse. He didn't want to wake up and stare at the familiar walls of his captivity, to the silence of the Keep that sometimes was broken by the sounds of MTs and daemons roaming around. No, he'd rather be back in his apartment, or even in Noctis'. 

A cold splash of water forced him to open his violet-blue eyes, gasping slightly. The MT put the bucket down and came forward, brandishing a couple syringes in one hand. Prompto let out a whimper but didn't struggle. As he found out quickly, it hurt far more if he tensed up his muscles while the needles were inserted into his skin. He looked away, relaxing his arm, letting the MT do whatever it wanted. 

It was over as soon as it had started, but the pain flared up just as quickly. He whimpered again, biting his lip as he tried to keep in his screams. It was like someone had poured boiling hot water into his body. It scorched and burned. He could swear he could feel something changing inside him as this liquid made its way through him, but he couldn't tell what had changed either. After what seemed like hours, the pain slowly faded and he panted from his restraints, body sagging weakly. 

It was uncertain how long he had been here. The last thing he could remember was fleeing from that fortress where he found out what he was. That he was cloned from Verstael Besithia's DNA and created to become an MT soldier for Niflheim. He faced off against various MT soldiers (his brothers, his mind supplied) and even against the monster that Verstael created, the giant mechanical worm thing. He was going to head back to Noctis and the others, meet them at their next destination, when he had been attacked.

He wondered if Noctis, Gladio, and Ignis knew where he was, if they would ever come and get him. Prompto knew that they would, especially Noctis, but there were whispers in his mind lately. What if it had gotten out that he was their enemy, created to destroy them? Would they wear expressions of betrayal, hurt, rage? Or, even worse, disappointment? Would they leave him here or would they kill him? He knew it would be a mercy if they did end up killing him. Being kept alive inside the body of a daemon-run machine would be a fate far worse than death. He'd rather die than see himself killing them, his friends and family. 

He'd beg for it.

He felt his eyes start to close, though he wasn't sure if it was due to exhaustion or a side effect of whatever they had given him. He knew he shouldn't be sleeping at a time like this, but what else was he supposed to do? As he finally let himself relax, to feel the pull of sleep, he didn't notice the slight changes that were being made to his body. He could barely feel anything anyway.

 

Prompto was once again awoken with a bucket of water on his face, something he was starting to slowly hate. He leveled a glare at the MT, but noticed that another being was behind the soldier. It looked to be a human scientist, with the white lab coat to complete the look. The human male came forward, leaning forward to study him, as if he was some kind of exotic animal he had just captured.

“Fascinating,” he murmured, pacing around his shackled body.

“W-what is fascinating?” Prompto asked, voice hoarse from disuse and the various times he was tortured. Astrals, his voice sounded horrible and raw.

“Ah, so it can speak. Good. Tell me, do you feel any different?”

Prompto stared at the scientist. “No? I don't.”

“Also fascinating.” The smaller man came to a stop in front of him, smiling. “It seems as though everything is going according to plan, even more so that you are unaware of what is going on.”

“What do you mean?” Prompto demanded, coughing slightly when his throat strained with his slightly louder voice.

The scientist laughed. “I'll leave you to figure that out on your own, soldier.” He turned on his heels and left, leaving the MT to once again pull out two syringes. 

It continued in a similar cycle, where once in a great while someone that was human would come check in on him, asking the same questions. Prompto was getting frustrated with everything, honestly. He didn't feel any different, other than being sluggish and sleeping often. Maybe he was turning into a Noct, he mused to himself the next night. It wouldn't be a terrible thing. He could be nap buddies with this future King, even if Ignis will constantly wake them to remind Noct of his schedule.

The next morning, however, was different. When he woke up, it was not to a bucket to the face. Something was off, he knew it. As he took survey of himself, his blue eyes sweeping over his body, he did notice something. He wasn't sure if it was a trick of the light or what, but his arms... didn't look human. He knew no one had touched him or anything but his thin arms looked bulkier. He could see his veins more, pressing against his skin like cords. Maybe they were feeding him steroids or something like that, he thought. When he twitched one of his arms, he felt a shooting pain but saw the arm flex. As it did, he heard a noise much like a whirring of a machine right before it moved.

It dawned on him, in that instant, what they were doing to him. It made him sick to his stomach at the thought, as he stared at his arm in horror.

They were turning him into an MT.

 

Over the next days, the changes started to become more noticeable. Every time he tried to move his body, he could hear the same mechanical sounds of an engine right before he moved. His body didn't get any bulkier but he could feel the changes inside him. One of the scientists that came in today took a knife and made a long cut on his forearm, making him yell out in pain. What he saw nearly made him faint, however. His blood vessels had changed into thin cords that pumped some kind of black fluid (oil?). His muscles were still there, but hidden behind them were thick bands of steel where bone should have been. He should have felt these changes but he couldn't recall ever feeling anything. The only thing he could think of was that the changes were happening while he was sleeping, when he wasn't aware of it. The “treatments” as the scientists called it also began to stop, or at least taper off. He wasn't sure how to feel about it, besides relief that quickly melted away to the fear of what he was becoming.

Now he would never be welcome into Insomnia again, much less Lucis. 

Long after the scientist left, the long cut on his arm began to knit together and become flawless skin, leaving Prompto to gape. After a few minutes he looked away, keeping his eyes on the ground. He refused to move, just so he would no longer have to hear those noises his body would make. Hell, he didn't even want to think about how he was turning into an MT, about what was in the serums injected into his body to force the changes. 

He just wanted to forget.

He just wanted to die.


End file.
